A Time and Place for All Things
by RoyalGravel
Summary: Master Hand is trying to work. Crazy Hand wants to have fun, and gets an idea. Of course, Crazy Hand's ideas are always a bit... extreme. And Master Hand must deal with him, with the poor Smashers stuck in between. My first story. Lighthearted, some bits of violence.
1. Oh, Brother

**Oh, Brother**

"Last time I checked, _blankets_ where used for _keeping warm._ Not _murder."_

***(M)*(H)***

I was rather irritated at the moment. Going through mail was already stressful enough, -with so much of it consisting of fan-mail, pranks, threats, among other things- without another damned guy flying around the room blithering incoherent things in a hand form. Don't get me wrong, as a brother, I have an unconditional love for the guy, but honestly, the man needs to be shot with a tranquilizer every once in a while. May sound a bit extreme to you, but believe me when I say _he's driving me insane._ A bit like himself.

I was in my humanoid form while reading the mail. I appeared to be average young man with dark blue eyes, and white hair that seemed to go in every direction. As normal, I wore a black dress shirt with a white coat, pants, shoes, and a single glove on my right hand. My brother wore the left.

Speaking of the devil, as I pulled my hair in irritation of the forth threat of today, the left hand whizzed down the hall past the open door of my office. He laughed insanely, even with no mouth. What the hell did he think he was doing? -_Trying to get me to sign his death warrant?- _I couldn't read the mail. Not with him going up and down the hallway. I placed both hands on the table and stood up, stomped over to the door, and just as my brother came by for the three-hundredth time, I punched him right in the palm. The hand hit the wall right in front of the door and fell to the ground, looking in as much pain as hand could look. I glared dangerously at it, fists tight at my sides, breathing angrily. "Stop it." I commanded.

"Owww… Why'd you do that?" The hand whined painfully twitching a bit. In a slow flash of light, a man, much like myself, took place of the hand. However, all the colors were weird. The shirt was white, but the coat was neon orange and the pants were lime, the shoes being violet. His eyes were mismatched hazel and yellow. Not that I could see them, he had them shut tight while wallowing in pain. "That really hurt! You could've just told me to stop…" He murmured, clutching his aching stomach.

"You never would have listened." I scolded. Being with him for many millennia, I knew my brother well enough to know he doesn't listen to a lot of things. He obeyed me more than others, but he was still like a four year old who wouldn't stay still when told to. I folded my arms, relaxing a bit.

Nuh-uh! You never asked!" The neon man argued, trying to stand on two feet very wobbly, relying on the wall to keep him steady while he used his arms to hold back some of the pain. "I would have done it if you said so!" He whined like a child.

I rolled my eyes at him, and sighed. So immature, this guy. So different from me, even as a twin. "You know as well as I that there are commands you won't obey." My brother opened his mouth to protest, but I raised my index finger to stop him. "No, no, no, stop right there. No games, just sit down and stop screaming." I ordered, feeling rather cold as I said that. I pointed to a chair near my desk with the same hand, motioning for him to sit there. At times, I felt a lot like a parent to him. Other times, I felt I was near to committing incest. Nevertheless, I stayed valiant with him, dealing with his shenanigans and idiocy, and enjoying his company and loyalty.

With a grimace, he marched over to the chair, and sat back in it lazily. I sat back down in my chair, facing away from my brother, finally able to get back to work. Sorting through the stack of mail, mostly throwing them into a trash pile if I deemed it unimportant, opening only a few labeled ones, I expect to have a small conversation with the other one. I usually did, if he was ever around and not doing something annoying. I didn't mind them, we had them for many past years. But right now, even after many minutes, my brother was silent, and I grew worried, as he was the one to always start the turning, I checked on him. "Crazy?" I called.

Quickly, slightly suspiciously, he answered, "Master?"

Although I was slightly relieved, I was still worried about his quietness. I knew he had lots of mood swings, but it was rarely like this. "You okay?" I asked, turning to look at him.

He wasn't in the chair. Panicking a little, I scanned my eyes around the room. Luckily for me, his blindingly colorful clothes gave him away. He was rummaging through my secret cabinet. "Hey!" I yelled at him. He flinched, falling out of the cabinet he had been going through, as a chocolate chip cookie landed next to him. _MY _ chocolate chip cookie. "What do you think you're doing?!" I growled at him, gripping the back of my leather chair with a fierce anger. He rubbed the back of his head hat had been hit in the fall.

"I was hungry, and your not-so-secret cabinet was so tempting… You didn't even paint over the hinges…." Indeed, the cabinet was just a cut-out square in the wall attached to hinges, covered in the black paint like the wall around it. Over time, the paint had fallen off the metal hinges. But that was where I kept my special things and sweets, he had no right to be going through it!

"Why don't you just… go mess with the Smashers or something?" I suggested to him, shooing him away. "And… give me back my cookie!"

Crazy frowned slightly, brightening only after he had thought of something. Then, a mischievous smirk pulled at his lips. He jumped to his feet, bowing to me for some odd reason. "That's a great idea, muahahaha, I'll do just that." He cackled, taking a bite of the cookie, causing my eyes to widen and my jaw to drop. "And… no." He skipped out the door, taking my sugary circle of joy away.

"No! Get back here with my cookie!" I yelled at him, but to no avail. I wasn't going to chase after him. So sighing, I slumped down back into my chair, looking pitiful as I sorted through the papers again. Taking from a tall, neat stack of envelopes the left of my desk, I examined them, before most likely tossing them to them to a larger, messy pile on the right side of my desk. I would do this for hours on end, every week. It was so boring, so tedious and soul-sucking. I would much prefer seeing two to four people try to kill each other by throwing them off the stage. That is why I made it my job.

But for now, I flipped through pointless fan mail and bills, opening few that I thought were important, only to deem them a waste of my time. I used to read all of them, back in the first few years, until I realized that most humans are a bunch of blithering idiots. Seriously, reading what they say nearly gives me a migraine. Why do I have a body modeled after them? The Smashers, that's why.

Now of course, no story is good without a problem, that's why I'm telling you this one. After another hour, I heard the distinct sound of an explosion. Far and muffled, mostly because of the immensity of the mansion. But I still felt the shockwave and trembling of the building. Without hesitation, I reverted to my original right-hand form, an exact copy of my brother's, but in reverse. I flew down the halls, past confused characters and people peering out there doors, and I came to a halt a the main kitchen, speechless, and looking somewhat like a frozen tasered hand.

_"What… did you do?!"_

**Author's notes: Ha, ha! First chapter of my first story! I, um…. Don't expect a single person to read this yet. But If they do, great! You get the soul-wrenching task of having to wait or be completely uninterested! Good luck with that!**

**Yes, the hands will often transform between a human and giant hand form. Don't kill me, cause my stories aren't always consistent. In this one they can do that, but probably in others they'll just be giant floating gloves.**

**I, um… honestly don't have much else to say. Comments, questions, constructive/deconstructive criticism- all accepted. **

**I'm new to this, okay?!**


	2. Thinking Straight

**Thinking Straight**

_"If I remember correctly, You said you owed me one. This is one."_

***(C)*(H)***

I admire him so much. He's older than me, smarter, cooler, and so well dressed. Not that I'd like to wear the same thing as him, but you see my point, right? We used to have fun together all the time… We would create and destroy, talk, or even just sit together. But recently, he's been so cold to me… I don't know why. I feel like I did something wrong.

I frolicked out of Master's room, chomping down on the stolen 'secret' cookie along the way. I had a big ol' smile on my face, because my brother had just given me the greatest idea. He obviously had too much work to do nowadays, so, I'd get him to pay attention to his higher priorities- which _should _have been me, but apparently wasn't.

It was the most perfect plan I had ever thought of. I should start now- it was fresh in my mind, and I was bored. So after getting to the kitchen, I saw Kirby using the gas stove. He didn't usually cook- Kirby is a great chef, but the food never makes it from the stove to the table- Usually just to his stomach. Though, it didn't mater so much right now, because of what I was going to do. By now, I had transformed again, and was a floating left hand again. "Hey, Kirby! What'cha making for us?" I greeted casually, pointing my index at him.

By now, Kirby had grown for many years. Not that you could see his growth, but he could speak more fluently than I. His voice was still very high-pitched and childish. "Oh, hey Crazy Hand- I was actually making soup for Dedede. He's sick, you see." The puffball explained, stirring the small pot constantly, standing on a tall stool.

"Ah, really? So I that's not for me?" I pointed to the pot.

"Erm… no."

"But I'm hungry."

Kirby, always being the one to please, looked around the kitchen for ideas. "Well… I guess I could get you something…" He muttered carefully.

"Oh, that's great! You're so nice- you do that, could I just see this stove for a minute?" I pushed Kirby away, having him do something, while I moved the stove to reveal the wall behind it. It was connected to the wall by a pipe that fueled it with gas. I pulled the pipe off with ease, and lit the area with a snap of my fingers.

_BOOM._

What was left was charred ruins, and a giant hole that replaced the walls of all the rooms near the kitchen. Kirby was lying unconscious on against the wall on the opposite end of the room. I looked at the great destruction I had caused, my body a bit blackened. "Hm… Perfect. Now, what else…?" I asked myself, moving towards a less-destroyed area and snapping my fingers. "Ah, yes, of course! The- _everything!"_

Just as I began creating what i had intended, my brother had slid into view. Eyes wide, jaw agape, he assessed the damage, eyes ending up on me.

_"What… did you do?!"_

I froze for a moment, flinching as I heard his voice filled with harsh accusation and confusion. It seems he found out a bit too early. His fists clenched tightly, and he gritted his teeth. I posed like a hand up in innocence. "Oh, uh… Master! I was just redecorating! We haven't done anything fun in such a long time, won't this be fun?"

He took a stomp forward. "I assure you, it will NOT be fun. _Especially _with all the Smashers around! AND, I worked very hard on this mansion, can't you respect that?!" He growled at me. Not at all like the fun and interesting man I used to know. Though, even then he still probably would've smacked me…

"Oh, come on! They can help too, eh? They've been here so long, shouldn't they get a say in how everything is?" I reasoned with him. The commotion was causing a lot of the said Smashers to peak into the doorway, though my brother seemed not to notice or care. Many like Peach, Zelda and Lucas came over to Kirby to tend to him.

"No, just, no- Crazy, what is going through your hea-" He was interrupted suddenly by smack to the back of the head, rendering him unconscious, the offender none other than Ganondorf. Three more men appeared from behind, Bowser, Wolf and Wario. Other's Smashers mouths agape, as well as me if you could imagine a hand doing that. Wario moved in front of Ganondorf. "So, What do ya want us to do, boss?" He snorted.

"Um… Well… Wow…" I stuttered, not sure how to respond to the new situation. Master Hand was the one who led villains. Well, technically it was Tabuu, but Master still had more experience. Indirectly. "…Mm, let's split the mason in half! We get one part, everyone else gets the other!" I suggested, pointing in the direction to the center of the building.

As we began our leave, all five Smashers owning swords stepped in our way with a defensive stance, surrounding downed Master Hand, Meta Knight in front. "Crazy Hand, what do you think you are doing?" The blue puffball questioned immediately, eyes glowing red with anger. He already knew exactly what I was doing, damn him. How did he manage to round up all the swordsmen so quickly?

"Long time no see, Meta Knight!" I chirped, pointing at him casually. "You're so anti-social, I never get to see you often, except rare times around dinner!"

"This is no time for games, now disband yourselves!" He commanded, raising his guard a bit more.

"What is this, the sword club? Five musketeers? I'm really looking forward to a fair game of chess right about now, so if you could move…" I tried getting past them, but Meta Knight threatened to turn me into a glove smoothie, so I made a much better decision.

I lead my underlings around the swordsmen, through the gaping obvious hole I had made from the gas explosion, and out the door, down the hallway.

The swordsmen chased us down, almost getting Wario, cutting a bit of his mustache. Luckily, we made it to the made it to the entrance hall, shutting the door behind us and sealing it with a magic barrier. Of course, since I had made it, it probably wasn't going to hold very long.

"Everyone to the left!" I commender, pointing receptively. Without any more consideration of my new minions' positions, I karate chopped the floor.

_CRACK. _The stone floor split down the middle. Slowly but surely, the floor on the left and right side of the line moved away from each other, as the villains all watched with anticipation. First, the foundation revealed itself, then the rock and dirt it sat upon, before finally the ground building were in two, revealing the empty false sky from above and beneath the island. Smash Manor and the surrounding environment was created on a floating island in a dimension with sky blue emptiness. Master and I thought it would be much easier than creating an enormous rocky mass with so many details needing to be payed mind to.

Slowly, the two halves floated away, revealing rooms on above floors. Falco, in a room on the end opposite of my half, was stared in awe as he saw half his room being taken. They floated away from each other until each was only a tiny speck in the horizon. Perfect.

I snapped my fingers, excited to execute my plans. "Alright, now let's get started!" I said to the other four, going through a door away from the half of the hall. "I want this half of the world to be all-new, all-better, I knew my brother would be angry at me, but hoped he would understand, or learn what I was doing was of good reason.

_"I'll make the world in my vision now!"_

**Author's Notes: *(C)*(H)* is Crazy Hand's POV. *(M)*(H)* is Master hand's POV.**

**Just so you don't get confused in this last scene, Crazy is hand-form, Master is human-form.**

**And by 'Smashers with swords' I mean Marth, Ike, Link, Toon Link, and Meta Knight.**

**Thanks to all the people who have read so far and not reject their lunch immediately after. :)**


End file.
